Foreign Affairs
by V-rcingetorix
Summary: A short story depicting Commander Shepard in a mission set with an asari commando squad. Own characters used, and no, I do not own Mass Effect, or receive benefits from telling stories. So there. Rated T for innuendo, and that I have no clue what the rating system here mean. Let me know in a review or PM, eh?


_**Just an idea, what exactly did Shepard get up to in the time between his fame-inducing exploits and his position on the Normandy? And what is it about him that makes asari swoon in his presence?**_

_**Note: I am still not sure which Shep would ship…but this is a possible reason.**_

**Arcturus June 25, - -**

Asari commandos were renown for their highly practiced skill in combat. Their biotics combined with superb conditioning enabled them to become legends; their lifespans permitted them to sometimes achieve the skill levels equal to their legends. The turians had a saying: "The Asari commandos are the best soldiers in the galaxy. Fortunately, there aren't many of them."

Humans, on the other hand, are famous for being virtuosos in battle. While the other races have to dedicate a significant portion of their lifespan to master a limited range of combat, humans can master a variety of skills in much less time. The end result is while one-on-one combat would see a human at disadvantage, the human would be able to adapt quickly and change the rules of engagement.

N7 operatives were the best humanity had to offer for battle. Every rank had gifts, but the top level operatives had spent an average of ten years mastering the art of war. A human could learn a great deal in that amount of time. A _gifted_ human could, with experience, become nigh a god of war.

Commander Shepard blew many of the old records into tattered remnants, bringing the twin gifts of intelligence and gifted physical capability to a finely honed point. That being said, he was under thirty years of age, and considered a youth in comparison to the asari commandos sent to ask the Alliance for assistance.

"We were sent for actual _help_, not some child prodigy!" the commanding commando was saying.

Shepard kept his helmet on, body language casual. He'd spent a few exhausting weeks amongst the quarians learning about their military training. He'd learned far more about body-language than he'd have thought possible; fitting, since the quarian race had been confined to full suits for centuries. That experience had been put to good use, especially now.

The other asari had somewhat differing body postures. Some had the relaxed attitude of _among friends, let the officers talk it out._ Others had a more guarded posture, _allies present, but unknown_. The officer in question had the same body-language as a domineering leader facing an obtuse but well-meaning inferior. She was too diplomatic to say so, but she clearly believed that her trip had been a useless time expenditure.

"Commander Shepard is one of our best," Captain Anderson responded firmly. "I would go so far to say he is _the_ best the Alliance has. Captain, your government asked for our best, and you have him."

The asari captain made a polite disbelieving noise, and wheeled away. The other commandos orbited her like a school of fish, never actually looking at each other, but coordinating their movements to never impede progress.

Shepard studied their movements carefully, absorbing the pattern. He caught Anderson's eye, and nodded a farewell. The Captain gestured, releasing Shepard.

Dianaus

"Wasted trip." Commander Dianaus muttered. Her escort drifted left, avoiding a cluster of the primitives, re-coalescing around her.

"Was it wise to depart so abruptly?" murmured her lieutenant, Althen. "We do not wish to cause offense."

Both automatically scanned for observers as they approached their airlock. Both missed the armored figure close behind, mimicking their movements.

"We're better off on our own for this one." The captain stated firmly. "Humans may have a claim to the sector, but it is a Council world, and therefore our problem. If the Alliance had offered a squad, I would think they are taking it seriously, but just one…?"

"Depends on the one." Growled a deep voice behind her ear.

Dianaus spun, flaring her biotics, as did her commandos. The airlock was awash with the light of a half-dozen practiced barriers…illuminating the figure of a massively built (to an asari's eyes) human.

He seemed unimpressed by their readiness. Then again, he'd been close enough to kill two of them with just his hands.

"What do you think you're doing?" hissed Dianaus.

The human folded his arms in a relaxed position. "My job."

The airlock cycled open. Two of the commandos slipped inside, gaining cover. Althen glanced at the human; if he'd kept silent, he probably would have made it into the airlock without anyone the wiser. He'd have been detected of course…which would have been galling…which meant he'd planned his reveal…interesting.

"Who are you?" demanded the captain. "What do you want?"

"Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy." The human straightened into military correct posture and saluted. "I'm the N7 assigned to your investigation."

"What good is one soldier?" one of the commandos scoffed. "We have a riot on our hands!"

Shepard seemed truly puzzled. "And they sent a full squad of commandos? How many riots are there?"

Tessna broke in, attempting to smooth the tension. "How many does the Alliance send for something like this?"

He held up one finger. "One problem, one N7. Rule of thumb, prevents escalation."

One of the commandos shook her head at the naiveté.

The captain held her tongue, but one of her lieutenants didn't.

"Who do you think you are?" she demanded.

Shepard tilted his helmet slightly. "I'm a soldier. Something your troupe of dancers seem to have in short supply."

The rest of the transit was done in silence.

Their Asari Republic vessel _The_ _Far Grace_ was typical of asari engineering. Elegant, strong, with smooth lines arced to a central point. Turian and human vessels tended to be more angular, built for intimidation.

The interior matched the exterior, rounded walls sloping into ceilings. Even the rooms had curved sides. Very little furniture was evident, but there were ridges on the wall showing where storage was probable.

"We don't have any excess room. This ship is a _military_ vessel, so there is no room for passengers. Even _distinguished_ ones." The lieutenant kept her face half in his direction fairly pointedly.

Shepard winced internally; that hadn't been his most diplomatic sally. He stood by it, though. These asari may have skills, but it wasn't evident in their bearing. He could tell they knew hand-to-hand; it was in how they walked. Most beings with martial arts had a completely different walking style; more fluid. Noncoms just…lurched...when they walked. But being soldiers? They could kill, but they were stalkers, not killers.

"That is acceptable." He kept his tone cold, back at parade-ground stiffness. "Just give me a wall and I'll be fine."

The lieutenant finally faced him. "That won't be necessary," she smirked. Smirked? "Since you _are_ the representative of the Alliance, you're bunking with the second-in-command. And the lieutenants."

Shepard was glad his helmet covered his face, this was nowhere near what he'd been expecting…although in hindsight it was obvious. Put the troublemaker with the authority figure.

"Understood." Was all he said. "My footlocker?"

She didn't seem to hear him, walking onwards. But he could read body language. She was still smirking. _Great_.

The room he was bunking in was the commander's room all right...if it could be called a private room. Data pads filled the breadth of a long desk to one side. Various artifacts…trophies maybe?...were fastened to the walls. Bunks lined one wall, with a single larger bed stuck in a corner, medical equipment strapped to its sides.

And, surprise surprise, the commander was the lieutenant that had been showing him around. He found her name by exercising his expert forensic skills, and looking at her desk; _Commander Dianaus_. Engraved too, fancy. And a medallion of some sort…the translator marked it as Siari? Some sort of cult?

Shepard sighed, unsealing his helmet. Tox-scans didn't show anything abnormal. Well, anything more than a non-human vessel would show. Still, he took a cautious sniff once the seals were off. Oxygen was a bit higher than he was used too, but nothing else.

Hearing footsteps, he resealed his helmet.

"Shepard?" came a high-pitched voice. Female. Shepard cursed inwardly; when a race consisted of nothing but alien females, standard identification rubrics went the way of the dinosaurs.

"Here." He kept his voice gruff. If possible, he'd keep them from knowing they scared the heck out of him.

She came around the corner. Shepard had to double-check his body posture. Maybe it had something to do with the bodysuit. What was it with asari and clothes so tight you could identify their gender from orbit? It didn't help that she had a figure many human women would have killed to possess.

Curious, she tilted her head to one side, looking at him. "Commander said to send you an invite to spar practice. If you want to rest up though…."

"I'll be there." Shepard answered shortly. Might as well get it over with.

Another glaring difference between humans and asari, Shepard discovered, was that they had communal habits. He supposed it was natural, the species as a whole had earned a reputation for inter-species gregarious behavior, and ergo it was a habit of the species.

He followed his guide past a galley area that opened to a common-room. Blue skinned crewmen…crew women?...sat at benches talking and eating. A few looked his way, but most seemed more interested in each other.

What really stood out to him, however was how the asari practiced sparring. Aside from the outfits (was that really necessary?), there was a great deal of biotic activity going on. A pair were sparring as he entered, hands moving faster than the eye could follow. He caught a glimpse of palm-strikes, pushed to one side with equally fast circular motion. It looked akin to the _Mantis_ form of kung fu, mixed with quarian hand-to-hand. There seemed to be a lack of frontal assault, however, perhaps more _aikido_ than _Mantis_?

"Human. Get your tongue back in your head." Someone barked at him.

Shepard rotated slightly to see Commander Dianaus scowling at him. He deliberately turned sideways to her, and moved to a wall where he could see the entire cargo bay easily. His body posture radiated confidence

The commander shook her head then went back to her own practice. Something involving a pair of long staves and biotics.

Shepard scowled behind the safety of his faceplate. The blatant lack of any non-biotic combat was surprising, especially in one of the most elite units the asari had to offer.

Shrugging it off, he moved to a weight machine, puzzled with its workings for a minute, then started some reps. The weights were on the low side, but if he disengaged his armors assist settings, it turned to a better workout.

He queued up some music in his helmet, ignoring the stares of the aliens, focusing on the workout. It was beginning to look like this was the only place he'd get some solitude…relatively speaking. Unconsciously, he fell into his old routine; once you got into habit, it was hard to break.

Dianaus glared at the human. He seemed perfectly comfortable with his current position; prone on his back lifting weights that asari trained with their entire lives. What did he think he was doing? She'd summoned him as a power move…but he was ignoring her.

Ah.

That was it. A counter-move, demonstrating his own independence. Most asari didn't recognize the power that came with independent activity until they'd experienced the galaxy for a few decades. Humans, however, seemed to understand that status inherently. She'd seen the other humans on their station acting independently, with almost no coordinated activity. Well, there had been some coordination, but it was…crude. Forced. Asari could coordinate with each other within minutes of meeting.

She deliberately turned her shoulder to him, showing both her profile and a challenge, should he accept it. He seemed worthy.

The other commandos saw the silent exchange and quirked a few grins. This would be fun.

Shepard flipped to another track, something with more percussion to get his heart-rate up. The weights weren't doing it for him, perhaps they had more nearby?

He rolled to a sitting position, facing the wall where the extra weights were set. It looked like they were compatible with the machine he was using, so he snagged a few and stacked them up. He mentally calculated the total weight, but it wasn't enough, so he put a few more on top.

Getting back underneath the bar, he tested it a bit…yes. This was more like it.

Dianaus felt like her carefully orchestrated plan was falling apart. The human had turned his back, _turned his back_ to her, and randomly fetched more weights! That was either an insult, or a display of trust. Or…he felt confident that he could take on everyone in that room. She wasn't sure what was more frightening; that he actually could, or that she could be warming up to him.

It was an asari failing, she knew. Being open too many species meant having a highly receptive mind…and right now watching a muscular human casually practicing with weights that would leave an asari commando gasping in a few minutes…she focused on her sparring. It was easy to take advantage of her opponent; she was staring at the human much more obviously than necessary, so she delivered a strike on the scalp. Her opponent fell back with a surprised yelp.

It caused her to smile. At least some things were still the same.

Shepard made it back to the bunkroom without managing to offend anyone or drop something heavy on anyone's toes. To his relief, his footlocker was present…on the far wall.

He scanned the other bunks. Yep, each had their own footlocker underneath. He had a wall. Looks like they took him at his word. Well, at least he could shower off.

Fortunately, the showers were empty, and he could hurry through. Showering was a good time for him to think; how was he going to show independence, yet reliability? If he slept on the floor, that might indicate a willingness to cope with anything…or show subservience. If he demanded a bunk, which could show confidence and command…or that he was a whiny human. Then the idea struck him and he smiled. The only person he met was while he was exiting. She…s/he? It? turned a bright blue color for some reason and pushed past him into the shower room.

Shaking his head, he tossed his sweaty clothes into a hamper, and briskly went back to the bunkroom for his armor. He ignored the twisting heads, although it did make him uneasy.

Gathering his armor in its case, he headed down to the armory. No one was there…which struck him as odd, but that meant he could make a few modifications to his armor.

They only took half an hour, but it was time for lights out when he got back. And he hadn't even made an attempt at visiting the bridge…or the mess hall. He might feel that in the morning.

"Oh dear, where will the human sleep?" came a mocking voice behind him.

Shepard started putting on his armor again, choosing to not answer. This was becoming a habit…a somewhat annoying one at that.

"I'm afraid your orders didn't include any recommendations about sleeping habits, would you like to try the recovery mattress?" the same voice went on.

Shepard slapped his pauldron on over the plastron and fixed Commander Dianaus with his brightest, friendliest smile. She blinked.

"Thank you, but I have some strange sleeping habits, nothing worth mentioning. I'll do fine." He said.

She gave him a questioning look, the first time he'd seen anything other than smug superiority from her and retreated to her desk.

Shepard shifted his weaponry from his back to his thighs, where he'd added some extra mag-clamps earlier. Aware that the crew was watching, he put a calm, relieved look on his face, and snapped the helmet on.

With a quick handstand and push, he shoved his feet against the wall near the ceiling. The mag-clamps in the boots took hold, allowing him to push off the floor, pivoting his back to the ceiling.

The mag-clamps on his back, ordinarily for weapons, activated and stuck to the ceiling. One in his helmet attached as well, so he was fairly comfortable lying on the ceiling, arms dangling.

Shepard looked down to see half the crew staring, the other half pretending not to stare.

"Oops," he said, pretending to not understand. "Be out of your way in a second."

He pulled his arms back so the metal clasps connected to his thighs and stuck there.

"Good night" he said brightly, then polarized his faceplate completely. Well, almost completely; he left it open enough so he could see anyone trying to get at his footlocker directly underneath himself. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable resting position, but it was good enough.

Commander Dianaus stared. She knew she was staring, but couldn't help it. The human…_Shepard_…had anchored himself to their ceiling like a Kala bird. How…creative….

Maybe he had more potential than she'd thought.

The morning came soon. Rather abruptly for Shepard, not to mention precipitously. The magnets in his backplate gave way a few seconds before the asari reveille went off, dropping him seconds after he'd awakened. He'd managed to pass it off as a standard waking routine, and privately gave thanks for the gift of genetically enhanced reflexes.

He'd gone to the workout room again, testing himself against the asari combat simulator. He'd removed his armor, leaving the earpiece connection in place, and the HUD projector. He'd grown dependent on the display, not that he'd admit it to anyone.

With a sigh of anticipation, he hit the start icon for the first fight. The machinery whirred for several seconds, humming until a pseudo-asari appeared. Her form was transparent, obviously a hologram. However, when she moved, Shepard could feel air currents divert…so she actually had some kind of physical form.

The pseudo-asari made a slide to one side, some kind of biotic mini-charge, then came in at his flank. One left-handed throat strike put her down in less than ten seconds. Ridiculously easy.

The VI automatically restarted the match, upgrading his opponent. This time it took him fifteen seconds, using some of the _aikido_ he'd learned under the N2 grade.

He waited while once again, the VI recalculated, and set up the next fight. Two asari this time, both glowing the tell-tale biotics. Shepard took a step back; he had no biotics himself.

One of the asari gestured at him while the other sidled left. Shepard lunged to his own left, countering the flank and charged.

To his surprise, he reached the asari before she made a move…like the VI had frozen. For a millisecond, Shepard paused, then took down the projection. The first projection didn't seem to have the same hesitancy as the second, and approached at an oblique angle, glowing.

Shepard took her down as well with minimal difficulty.

"Come on!" he complained at the VI. "Can't you give me more of a challenge?"

The machinery hummed again, upgrading its response.

Shepard smiled as the pseudo forms of another asari pair and a turian appeared. This was more like it!

The colony world to which they had been sent was fairly well populated. Nevos, of the Silean nebula had a population in the tens of millions, something that puzzled Shepard. Why was it still classified as a "colony" with a population so large?

The towers looked typical asari, swooping designs of some amalgam combining polymers and metal. They were fairly tall as well; the only place Shepard had seen towers that high had been back on earth. Those had been much less flexible, perhaps an analogy between human and asari methods?

He shook himself and continued walking. He couldn't be seen as a gawking newcomer; with his faceplate closed, the people outside the commando squad obviously thought him a batarian. Humans didn't come out this far, and definitely not in the company of commandos. For that matter, very few batarians were in the company of an elite commando squad, but there was at least precedent for that.

The asari around him soon diverged to a low-slung warehouse looking building. It's light-coloration and thin construction confused him until he saw the thicker pair of doors inside. Evidentially, this was a bunker.

The doors took a few seconds opening. Shepard revised his opinion upwards; it looked as though they were accessing something designed to repel a fully armed krogan squad….

Inside were more asari. There were also a few salarians, a drell and two hanar. None looked up as the asari squad plus human entered.

The squad stayed silent until sometime later, after they'd stopped inside a conference room inside the bunker.

The security seemed to help the atmosphere relax a bit. Some of the asari started chatting with a pair of salarians that were already present inside.

One of the asari, kinda cute in an alien sort of way, sat next to Shepard. He thought he recognized her from his little stunt back in Arcturus.

"So," she asked, "What do you do for fun?"

Shepard frowned behind his visor. "Well, I hit the range daily, that's always fun. And it's invigorating to go a few rounds in the hand-to-hand ring."

She slapped his shoulder, and winced. "Ow, what do you make this stuff out of?"

Her train of thought seemed to leap back onto its previous track. "I mean, what do you do off duty? You can't work all the time y'know. Unless you're really a salarian under there?"

For a long moment, Shepard was tempted to lock down. It was his preference, avoid getting chummy with the locals. But, Anderson had ordered him to maintain positive relations with the asari military, so he popped the seal on his helmet.

"I don't really have that much time off duty." He shook his hair out from its confinement, pulling the helmet free. "I usually just have enough time between missions to grab some sack time, and maybe read a few books."

From the look in her eyes, he was certain he'd offended her somehow. _Quick, how do I salvage this?_ He wondered.

Improvising, he grinned lopsidedly at her. "Once in a while, I hit a museum, if I have time. We spend so much time _making_ history, it's fun to just see history already made, right?" he hoped he wasn't being obtuse.

She shook her head a second, the dazed look leaving her expression. "Sounds like fun." She said brightly, then held out her hand. "Althen Tessna, biotics specialty."

He took her hand, grasping it firmly. "John Shepard. Infiltrator specialist."

He didn't understand why Althen now had such a wide grin. Or her next question.

"So, do you like clubbing?"

He thought about the question for a moment. "I think I can say I've spent some of my most memorable times in clubs."

Behind him, another pair of asari stepped closer, listening. Most asari considered themselves experts on clubs, having spent a few decades or centuries either guarding or performing in them. One winked at Althen, who ignored her.

"Anything...in particular?" she asked.

Shepard didn't have to think about it too hard. "The first time I went into a club, I managed to score five headshots. No casualties, and slavers were taken down hard. My second time wasn't quite as good, but I still managed two headshots," he rolled his eyes, "pistol work there. My fourth visit,"

Shepard had to grin at the memory. He didn't notice the extra listeners.

"My fourth visit was _memorable_."

"Yeah?" came a voice from behind. "So what did you pull off there?"

Shepard didn't bother looking, the tone and inflection already marked the speaker as Dianaus. She even _sounded_ sarcastic when he thought about it.

"Well," he took his time settling back in his chair. For some reason, Althen had found it necessary to lean on the arm of his chair. "That time I was going in solo. Had to make sure the place was going to go down, whether I made it out or not. So…" he glanced at Althen, eyes twinkling. "I put a lot of plastic explosives on the external supports. A little _too_ much, if you know what I mean." He waggled an eyebrow.

"And then?" Althen had a…weird look on her face. Shepard decided to evaluate it later.

"Then, I pulled the stupidest maneuver in the book." Shepard said flatly. "I told the pirate inside what I'd done, and he tried escaping." He snorted. "Didn't do him any good, of course. I'd figured out where a probable safe zone was located beforehand, and got there before the explosives went off."

Wincing at the memory, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I had a few bumps and scrapes, but I got most of the pirates."

There was a round of chuckles, which he appreciated. It meant he was in the company of working commandos, not some highly trained group of no-experience elites. It was one thing to talk shop with another soldier; quite another to be expected to stay friendly with glorified bodyguards. Maybe his evaluation of this dancing troupe had been incorrect?

"Attention, ladies, may I have your attention please?" one of the salarians spoke up. He glanced down the table at Shepard, and gave a shrug. "We have the intelligence briefing to commence, if you please."

Shepard slid his helmet back up. His HUD display might be helpful for this.

Commander Dianaus smirked slightly. Althen was practically salivating over the alien. That was fine, if a bit obvious, she was young. Experience would settle her down a bit.

Still, she had to admit. He had some good stories, and it looked like some of the others were finding him to be of interest as well. She wasn't too surprised; her commandos were fairly open minded individuals from across the entire galaxy. She herself had fond memories of her father, whom had been a drell.

She turned her attention to the briefing, stifling a brief sigh. In front of the others, she had to maintain the constant vigilance, but she did not know a single salarian who could make a briefing interesting.

Somehow, the briefing was over within a few minutes. Turns out even a salarian was only able to say "I don't know" for a limited number of times.

Fortunately, they did have one piece of information: the smugglers had been seen in one location already viewed by the local law enforcement. That gave her an excuse.

"We're going out there and checking it out for ourselves." She turned to face the human. "That includes you. Everyone suit up for combat."

Shepard finished checking his heat sink, slapping the parts together with practiced ease. Pistol was clean, now the Volkov.

He heard metallic clicking behind him, armor being moved around he supposed. It was a softer sound than armor usually made, so it was probably more flexible. Still, he didn't turn around, he had maintenance to do.

First, he checked the barrel, after unloading the ammo block. A swipe and the parts unlocked for him. Two clicks and he could check the barrel mods; two velocity amps clean and ready. He flicked the parts closer for an impromptu cleaning, then popped them back in place. One last check on the onboard computer, and the rifle was done. Quickly, he slid the parts back together, reassembling so many chunks of metal and plastic into a weapon of war. In his hands, a deadly one.

"You have dexterous hands, you know that?" Althen whispered in his ear. Her breath tickled….

Shepard turned, easing away from the voice. "Just a lot of practice…." His voice trailed. His earlier assumption had been correct. Her armor _must have_ been flexible…at least the way it was fitting on the commando beside him. It didn't hurt that she looked like a supermodel…in blue. A fit, combat-capable _attractive_ supermodel asari….

_Danger, Will Robinson_ his subconscious muttered. Quickly he snapped back to himself. Ruthlessly, he quelled the automatic reactions and turned back to his gun. Within seconds it was combat-ready.

"I'll be waiting for the team outside, ma'am." He saluted the asari and fled.

Dianaus watched the exchange with a smirk. The commando stalking the human looked a little put out, but definitely on the hunt.

_Careful, human_. She thought. _There is no fury like an asari scorned_.

Still, she couldn't resist firing a shot of her own. She was an asari after all, and he _was_ physically attractive.

"Easy, soldier," she murmured as the young commando started past her to the door. "Don't want him to get _too_ distracted in a fight."

Tessna smirked knowingly, adding a little sway to her step. "Debriefing will be fun, don't you agree, Commander?"

Dianaus grinned. _Yep. Definitely going to be an interesting trip_.

Shepard scrolled through his omni-tool, checking his armor seals. He didn't have much to do, sitting in a transport, but it was better than the awkward silence that seemed to envelope his surroundings whenever he made eye-contact.

That asari had somehow managed to sit opposite of him, and it seemed several other commandos found…form-fitting…combat armor applicable for combat. One of them was even wearing what humans would call high-heels…but it had to serve some combat function, he was certain. No one would be as foolish as to wear fashion accessories to battle, would they?

To stay busy, he fine-tuned his sabotage programs, introducing a few new program variables he'd worked out over the transit. He could feel eyes on him, with at least one set glaring heatedly. Not his problem; he was here to further prove humanity's capability, not to initiate an intergalactic incident.

"Hello, this is Pita your pilot, and we have a problem. Please assign all blame to your local analysis officer."

Four words, the bane of spec ops the galaxy over: _we have a problem_.

"Report." The asari commander and Shepard glanced at each other. Then Shepard sat back, letting her take charge.

The sensors officer gave the massive human a respectful amount of space, pushing through the crowded shuttle to Dianaus.

"We have readings on illegal weapons at the site you want us to land at; _very_ illegal weapons."

"Probably smugglers then." Dianaus looked over the data sheet. "They aren't under suspicion for being happy productive members of society, do you think?"

The technician blanched. "Uh, no ma'am. It's just that-"

She was cut off by the sound of an alarm. Almost immediately, the pilot's voice came over the intercom, "We have unidentified missile fire, repeat incoming missile, going evasive. Strap in if you can. Hang on if you can't."

The shuttle shook, then turned almost sideways, throwing Dianaus into the technician, both tumbling down the short aisle.

"Can't lose it, hitting super-sound," the pilot called back.

Abruptly, Dianaus felt something seize her midsection, pinning her against the bench. To one side, she could see the technician similarly pinned back, grappling with a restraint.

"Hang on," someone bellowed in her ear. "I got you, just hang on!"

Instinctively, she flung her leg under the bench seat, locking it around the legs of another commando. Her arms found the restraint around her midsection, and followed it back, grasping the edges as firmly as she could. The technician screamed, biotics flaring without thinking at her rescuer. All Dianaus saw was a blur of movement, a change in pressure around her, and the officer stopped screaming.

The shuttle lurched again, sending her against her ad hoc restraint, knocking the wind out of her. Looking down, she was surprised to see her rescuers arm clad in black armor. The human?

When she looked at his face, it was almost beyond recognition. Veins stood out on his neck, his teeth were bared in an expression of ferocity she hadn't seen on anyone but a krogan.

Then, something struck the shuttle with the strength of a demon giant. Everything stopped for a fraction of a second. The silence was eerie, like a temple with no worshippers, just the hush and the knowledge of a presence beyond comprehension.

Then sound returned. Small unsecured objects floated upwards while incomprehensible static burst over the intercom. The commandos didn't bother screaming, just watching each other grimly. Two seemed to feel the time had arrived for true feelings to be expressed, although that could have been an accident of physics. The technician was mercifully still, but that was worrying in itself.

There was only one reason for this issue; they were falling.

Dianaus reacted, a century of training pushing its way forwards. She twisted over the human, forcing him to alter his grip, but keeping her steady, which she needed. She could see the exit panel, and summoned the fire within to first _push_ and _twist_. The door bulged outwards, but not enough. The other commandos saw what she was trying, and followed her example. Nothing, not a krogan bunker, or turian designed safehouse could resist the power of a dozen asari commandos fighting for their lives.

The door popped outwards disappearing in the wind. The suction pulled several commandos out the door, all to the good.

"Go, go, go!" Dianaus screamed into her mike. She slapped the human, who let go of her. Immediately, she lost her sense of security, floating in zero-g. If she concentrated, she could treat it like a biotics exercise.

The commandos flared blue and white, launching themselves out of the doomed craft. Dianaus counted as they went past, waiting until she was certain all of her squad had left. Except…the human.

She twisted, searching. Then she spotted him, cleverly using his mag clamps to anchor himself to the deck.

"What are you doing?" she screamed at him.

"Getting the pilot out!" he bellowed back. The door resisted his efforts, groaning under the pressure.

"We don't have time! We have to go!" It was a harsh truth, but a necessary one.

"No…man…left…behind!" he growled back. He took a different stance, she could see his muscles bunch into a final effort. The door groaned, audible over the rushing wind as he levered it open.

The door, however, changed the aerodynamics of the wind rushing through the shuttle. Dianaus was thrown out the shuttle door, her last glimpse inside a confused jumble of black armor, grey walls and blue sky.

Dianaus plummeted, controlling her fall with careful bursts. The barrier enhancer interfaced with her biotic amp, flaring to keep her speed under the terminal velocity.

Far below her, she could see more flaring, her squad was descending in good order. Surprisingly, the commandos that had been wearing their more revealing armor were faring the best. The biotic enhancers built into those sets were more efficient than the usual equipment, which made sense. Somewhat.

She squinted against the sun, trying to find the shuttle. The speed of her fall was too great, though forcing her to concentrate on holding her barriers. The ground approached fast, giving her minimal time to prepare. Commandos, however, excel in preparation.

Centuries of training helped her make a great effort, _pushing_ herself upwards, reducing her weight, and almost reversing her progress. That slowed her down enough to enable a landing as if she'd only jumped off a nearby roof, not a shuttle a kilometer high.

Once she touched down, she flipped her HUD to show friendlies. Eleven blue dots were converging on her position, with a twelfth stationary a few hundred meters away. Two more dots headed for the stationary dot…the technicians formerly in the shuttle.

An explosion ripped the air, making her stumble. Regaining her balance, Dianaus started running for the crash site. If the human had died…asari/human relations would take a significant hit…unless they played him up as a martyr, which could work.

Her HUD beeped, letting her know a new signal had been detected. She looked up.

A dark streak was falling towards her, spinning slowly. Something in white clung to it, making a contrast every rotation.

Even though the last effort had drained her, Dianaus focused her will, _pushing_ upwards at the descending object.

Something flared on the dark object, coalescing into a biotic field slowing its descent.

The strain lessened as another commando joined her, then another. Soon, they were able to float the human to the ground with almost no effort.

He was carrying the Pita, who seemed to have broken her arm. At least, she wasn't moving it, and she was whimpering, eyes tightly closed. As she got closer, she could hear him talking…very unlike the stereotypical soldier she'd expected.

"You're safe now, we're down…"Shepard whispered in a gentle voice. "Don't worry, we're all right. Everyone made it." He continued making shushing noises, cradling her as well as he could, what with her good arm making an attempt to strangle him.

"He's right, we're here." Dianaus put aside her customary brusqueness; that wouldn't help. She hadn't thought about it, but her pilot was very young, barely a Maiden even. "We'll set your arm and get you some help, can you let go of the human now?"

The pilot squeezed one eye open cautiously. Even more slowly she opened the other eye, then stretched out a foot to tap the hillock on which they'd landed.

Abruptly, she burst into full-fledged tears and threw her good arm around the humans' neck, sobbing into his chest plate.

Shepard gave Dianaus a blank look…she noted amusingly, a look that could only be a mask filled with terror. When Dianaus did nothing but smirk, he gingerly put first one arm, then another around her pilot, patting her back lightly.

Soon, however, the young asari pulled back, blushing. The human distanced himself as soon as politely possible, and seemed to be going over his side arms frantically…somewhat more eagerly than was necessary.

Dianaus made certain the pilot was receiving attention from the squad medic, then approached the human commando.

"Damn it!" he burst out suddenly as she approached. "De dumma stift leds idioter som bröt min fars gevär betalar i blod!"

She paused to examine her omni-tool, was it malfunctioning?

"När jag får mina händer på dem, jag kommer att skada dem så illa deras förfäder kommer att skrika av smärta!"

He seemed to be quite upset about something.

"Um, is something wrong?"

He glared at her, held up a hand and resumed yelling a few more phrases, spoken with great vehemence. A few hand gestures showed up regularly, miming some act of violence, she guessed.

Dianaus waited, until he calmed a little. She seemed to be doing more waiting lately.

The human sighed, and took off his helmet.

"My fathers' rifle, it must have been knocked loose in the fall." He gestured at his left thigh. "I shifted it just before the explosion."

"Can't he get you another one?" she asked, curious.

Shepard gave her one look. A shadow passed behind his eyes. "No, not anymore."

Dianaus read between the lines and realized what had happened. "I'm sorry."

"What's done is done. If the choice were between saving a life and a weapon, always choose life. If I'd stopped for the gun, my father would've killed me anyway." He laughed slightly, confusing her. Humans were so strange.

"Well, thank you for saving my pilot. She has a great deal of potential."

The human looked up, and smiled shyly. It was strangely endearing, she realized. She continued a little unsteadily.

"I also…may have…treated you less than you deserved. I apologize for that." She looked at the ground, unable to meet his gaze. "You've been…remarkably cooperative."

He shifted, forcing her to meet his eyes. "You're the commander of an elite squad. I get that. I also understand how the _new_ _race,_" he twisted his fingers in the air, "can be frightening, especially after two of the previous unknowns almost killed the galaxy."

His smile twisted, becoming more predatory. She blamed her suddenly racing heart on a belated adrenaline reaction to the explosion. "But I assure you, I am a danger only to my enemies. The enemies of the Alliance are my enemies, and since our races are at peace, your enemies are my enemies."

"I may just take you up on that." She almost laughed at the tension release. "Though I don't think you'll have to sleep on the ceiling on the way back. The way the rest of my squad is watching, you probably could have your choice of berths."

His face changed color, becoming both pinker and more gray, an unusual characteristic of which she hadn't known humans capable.

Her com buzzed, distracting her. "Just a minute." She promised and took the call.

Shepard

Shepard jammed his helmet back on, slightly taken aback. The asari would let him take one of their bunks? That was surprising. Maybe the Alliance would be able to get along with the galaxy after all.

Then, his own comm went off. The signature bore a code-stamp from Admiral Hackett, one of the brass he could actually stand and like.

"Shepard reporting." He answered.

"Commander, congratulations on a successful mission. The asari are very impressed with how Alliance Special Forces perform under pressure."

"Sir? We just got shot down, we haven't gotten anywhere yet."

The canny admiral chuckled. "Pretend I didn't tell you anything when they tell you, but the whole thing was a test. The asari and human governments agreed to have a few exchange units…you were the primary test subject. The group you're with is called the Armali Commandos; they're the best the asari have to offer."

Shepard swiveled to view the squad. They _did_ have a camaraderie only experienced squads displayed; an almost cliquish familiarity. And…their commander had just…

"I suppose I should be mad at you, but I'll save it for someone it'll work on." Shepard noticed postures of disbelief among the squad, turning to laughter. The pilot he'd rescued was nearly doubled over, laughing. So she'd been in on the game as well…well well well.

"Sorry for the deception, Shepard. We needed our best on their best behavior, and you didn't disappoint. If the exercise hasn't strained you too much…" there was a hint of levity on the other end, "Take a few days off. I made sure you got some time for good behavior."

"Um…thank you, sir." Shepard wasn't sure how to take it.

"Don't mention it. Report for duty in seventy-two hours; until then, you're off the clock. Hackett out." The connection went dead.

This just got interesting.

The only thing that made the day better was the glint he spotted to one side. His Volkov, dented but functional, lay half covered by a shrub. He picked it up carefully, inspecting it for damage. It looked very good; he'd have to write a commendation for the Volkov manufacturers. Or another one anyway.

The asari squad seemed to have gotten over their surprise, so he decided to make his farewells before heading to the space port.

In retrospect, for the sake of his dignity, he should have just left.

Dianaus

Dianaus sat on a rock, somewhat stunned. The only other species tested so thoroughly was the turians…millennia ago. Humans rated very highly indeed.

"Well, here comes the hero," teased the pilot. She dimpled at the human, draping herself on his shoulder. "Thank you for the rescue, handsome. Any chance you could save me from these plebeians?" Her grin took the sting out of her insult. But the challenge had been accepted.

"I take it our superior have been having fun with us?" Shepard tried shifting sideways, bumping into the lieutenant.

"A soldier belongs with his own," Tessna slowly stretched her arms, grasping her wrists behind her back. "I think we could better help him have a good time, eh Commander?"

The human, normally as reserved as the composites he wore, was _stumbling_! Oh, this would be _good._

"Well," Dianaus lightly slapped Shepards' unoccupied shoulder, "I heard _someone_ talking about how good a time he had in clubs. How about we show our foreign specialist how the locals have a good time?"

The squad responded with a chorus of shrilled agreements. Shepard, flanked by two intent asari, was guided towards a new shuttle, landing nearby. He didn't really have a choice.

**A/N: Well, there you have it. A mission that didn't really have much in it, just some fluff and a bit of reasoning for interspecies interaction. This one was really out of my comfort zone, but I think it worked all right, at least for a first attempt.**

**Kudos to Wolfstar888 for the suggestion, and to the viewers who keep sending the readership count upwards. I know I am not the most predictable poster, but I will continue writing and posting as I can. I will never post unless I think I have the work written right; the end result being high quality, rather than quantity. University work takes a lot of time, unfortunately.**

**Please, leave a review if you can, tell me what you think! Or PM me, I always respond to questions.**

**73's**


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